In The Evening
by Lunn Lady of Angst
Summary: During a particularly frustrating hunt, Amelia Shaw and Sam Winchester find themselves faced with something neither of them had expected to find. Sam/OC, one-shot.


**Disclaimer:** I do not own Supernatural or any of its characters. Amelia is my OC, and Asher is The Batchild's (see link: .net/u/1085312/ ) OC.

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**In the Evening**

Amelia and Sam sat in silence as she drove Asher's truck through the town. They were driving no where in particular; they had come up no where on the lead they were following for the case. Sam had been shifting uncomfortably in the passenger seat ever since Amelia had told him they weren't going straight back to the motel. She had told him she could think better while she drove, and hadn't said anything since. Sam had taken that as meaning she thought better when driving in silence, so he hadn't said anything either, but not talking made him uncomfortable.

Eventually, Amelia pulled into the parking lot of a motel – not the motel that Dean and Asher were currently in, supposedly researching or brainstorming the case they were working on together – and turned off the truck. Sam waited a moment or two to see if Amelia was going to explain their new locale. When she didn't, he decided to break the silence. "So, this isn't the motel we're staying at."

Amelia sighed, running her fingers through her hair, her cowboy hat resting on the seat between them. "I know, Sam, I just don't want to head back to _our_ motel just yet."

Sam looked at her, waiting for some further explanation, and when he received none, asked, "Okay, um, why?"

Amelia looked at Sam, then turned to look out her window. "I don't know. I guess I just want to have a discussion about the case without having to listen to Dean and Asher biting each other's heads off." She grabbed her hat and began gathering up her things. "Let's just get a room for the night here so we can work in peace for once, m'kay?"

"Sure, I guess," Sam replied. He reached into the back seat and grabbed his bag, then followed Amelia out of the truck and into the motel office. They booked a cheap room and after grabbing the rest of their important equipment from the truck and locking it up, made their way into the room. Amelia threw herself onto the only bed in the room and covered her face with the pillow. Sam sat down beside her after putting his bags on a chair by the table and asked, "You don't think Asher will _actually_ bite Dean's head off, do you?"

Amelia lifted the pillow off her face, looked at Sam like he had three heads, shoved the pillow back onto her face and answered, muffled, "No, of course not. She's got that under control. I was being figurative. They're just always at each other's throats when they're together. Either that, or they're finally going to discover their unrequited love for each other, in which case I don't want to be their either."

Sam snorted. "Unrequited love? You've gotta be joking."

Removing the pillow again, Amelia replied, "Nah, just observant. They'd never admit it to themselves, but I can tell. I think that's why they hate each other so much."

Sam raised one eyebrow at her. "Sure, and I'm the king of England."

"More like king of your own mind," Amelia shot back, throwing the pillow at Sam's face. He dodged, and the pillow landed harmlessly on the other side of the room. Amelia sat up and crossed her legs beneath her, resting her elbows on her knees and her head on her hands. "So, anyways, moving on. Based on the nothing we learned at the crime scene, and the nothing we learned from arguing all night, on top of the nothing we learned today, what do we know about this case, other than the one big thing we knew already?"

Sam repressed a laugh, responding, "I'm going to have to go with nothing."

"Any ideas?"

"Nope."

"Crap. Why are we coming up so empty on this one? I mean, every other time we've worked together, it took us, what, maybe one night to figure at least something out. Have we lost the Sa-melia mojo or something?"

This time Sam did laugh. "No, I don't think we lost any sort of 'mojo'. I think this one is just, well, baffling. We just need to keep asking questions."

Amelia groaned and fell back onto the bed again, covering her face with her hands. "Either that or someone else will die first and give us more information. Always the best way to solve a case, right? Dead people?"

Leaning over, Sam pulled her hands off her face. "We'll find something. Before anyone else dies." He put on his best reassuring face, which was a fairly good one, considering he'd had years to practice using it on victims of the supernatural. Amelia, however, didn't seem to buy it. At least, that's what Sam gathered from the raised eyebrow and small smirk forming on her face. He didn't really buy it either, when it came down to it. They really didn't have anything. "Let's talk about something else."

"Like what?"

"I don't know, anything. What do you want to talk about?"

Amelia peered up at him. If she was being honest with herself, she never really thought of anything important besides work, so she wasn't altogether sure what to talk about. The only thing that she could think of was how much she thought Sam needed a haircut, but she wasn't sure that counted as a good topic for conversation. It seemed like whenever she and Sam were talking about the job they were on, or past jobs, or anything job related really, they could talk for hours on end and it would always feel natural and easy. Now that Sam wanted to talk about something other than the job, she just didn't know where to start. Well, whatever. "You need a haircut."

"Really?" Sam tilted his head in thought. "I kinda like it like this. Makes me look older."

"Oh, well, I was just thinking that it was in your eyes, is all. Makes it kind of hard to, you know, look at them."

Sam repressed a chuckle and leaned over her. "Yeah? Well when you wear your cowboy hats, it makes it hard to see _your_ eyes."

Amelia stuck her tongue out at him then started to sit up but paused mid motion when she found her nose directly in front of Sam's – clearly he was in her way. When he didn't immediately move out of her line of motion, she looked him in the eyes, which she could now clearly see, hoping to see in them why he wasn't moving. She found that he was looking at her just as intently, like he was thinking about what to do next. Amelia wondered what he was going to do, too, but she was struck with the sensation that she didn't much care. He had never been in such close proximity to her before. She could smell the subtle scent of what was either his shampoo or his body wash. Her heart started to race, but she wasn't sure if he was actually trying to make her react that way. "Sam?" she whispered tentatively.

"Mhm?"

"You're… awfully close to me."

"I guess I am." Sam was also unsure of what he was about to do. He was unsure how he even got there. He had just… sort of moved there. He had always been attracted to Amelia. Sure, she wasn't hard on the eyes, but he was attracted to her intelligence, her relationship with her sister, her work ethic… there was more. He just hadn't thought it was anything more than a sort of admiration. But now that he was this close to her, alone, he couldn't really fool himself into thinking that was all it was. He just didn't know quite _what_ it was.

The two of them held themselves two inches apart, staring, trying to figure out what was going to happen next, until Sam finally decided to take the initiative and slowly, lightly, brushed a lock of Amelia's hair behind her ear, allowing his fingers to linger longer than was technically necessary. Amelia shivered – ears were her soft spot. Not that Sam could have known that. She instinctively pushed herself closer to him. Taking that as the subtle invitation it was meant to be, Sam cradled her head in one hand, his other hand on her back, and gently pulled her against him, brushing his lips against hers in the process. A small sound of pleasure escaped Amelia's lips before she pressed them against his, kissing him properly.

Sam moved into the kiss, tangling his fingers in Amelia's hair. Amelia decided to occupy her hands as well and pushed them under Sam's t-shirt along his sculpted stomach. That earned a shudder from Sam, who responded by unbuttoning Amelia's shirt and pulling it off her lithe frame. Continuing with the rapid undressing, Amelia pulled Sam's shirt over his head, revealing the rest of his surprisingly muscled chest. She threw her head back and moaned when Sam, bored with mere kissing, ran his mouth and teeth along her collar bone, his hands along her now mostly bare back. Sam started running his hand possessively down Amelia's thigh when, of course, Amelia's cell rang.

Sam and Amelia both paused mid-make-out and looked over at the nightstand where the phone was vibrating and ringing synchronously. After the third ring, Amelia wiggled loose of Sam's arm, mumbling something about it being Asher in a husky, distracted voice and picked up the phone. "Yes?"

Sam sat up and ran his hand through his hair. He could tell Amelia was thinking hard about something; her facial expressions were amazingly easy to read. After a few "yeah"s and "mhm"s, Amelia asked, "Can it wait until morning? I'm tired and don't want to drive back to your motel." A brief pause, and then, "Well do you want me to crash your precious truck? No, I didn't think so. I'll see you in the morning, Ash." She flipped the phone closed and tossed it back on the nightstand.

"Well?" Sam queried?

"Just Asher with an update. Nothing we can do anything about it immediately anyways." Sitting back up, she looked Sam up and down, obviously impressed with what she was seeing. Catching the look in her eyes, Sam smirked. Amelia noticed. "What?" she asked, feigning ignorance.

"Do you think we'll be interrupted the rest of the night?"

"Not unless you expect Dean to call you."

"Nope."

"Well then, should we begin where we left off?"

Sam grinned a dark grin. A dark grin filled with dirty thoughts. "Damn right."

- - -

The next morning, Sam and Amelia were both in high spirits driving Asher's truck back to the motel that Asher and Dean were staying in. They were driving in silence, but not the uncomfortable silence of the evening before.

"So…" Sam prompted, again not being the best at starting conversations.

"So," Amelia responded, having no clue where he wanted to go with the conversation.

"Are we going to tell Asher and Dean about last night?"

Amelia pondered for a moment then grinned stupidly before responding with an emphatic "No!"

A bit taken aback, Sam asked, "Why not?"

She chortled. "Because, Sammy, they'd never tell us if they did the nasty. Don't get me wrong, last night was, well, wonderful, but I don't think it's something I need to tell Asher. She knows I sleep with people because I'm not an infertile fence post, but she doesn't usually care to know who with. If we were normal people with normal lives, maybe then I'd feel like it was more necessary to tell her, because then maybe we could go somewhere." Amelia paused there, curious to see what Sam would say.

"Not to seem forward or anything, but why wouldn't we go anywhere under these circumstances?"

Amelia pulled the truck over onto the shoulder of the road so she could look at Sam properly and not crash the truck. That would be bad. "Because we hardly see each other. We only get together for hunts once in a blue moon. I like you a hell of a lot, but I don't think that starting a serious relationship would be practical. Sure, when we're together we can share our mutual attraction, but what kind of relationship is one that involves only seeing each other once every three or more months?"

Sam paused, thinking. "Good point. So it's not that you don't want me, you just don't think it's practical?" He smirked.

Amelia threw her hat at him, sticking her tongue out. "Well when you say it like that, I sound like a bitch, don't I? Shut up!" Judging that she had conclusively ended the serious portion of their conversation, she put the truck into gear and continued them on their way back to the motel.

"So, no telling Asher and Dean?"

"No telling Asher and Dean."

"That's no fun." Sam feigned pouting.

"Oh, it will be. We can share meaningful glances and talk with sneaky innuendos that could just as easily be taken for something completely innocent and watch them furiously try to figure out if we _have_ done anything!" Amelia grinned mischievously and wiggled her eyebrows at Sam.

Sam laughed. "You're quite the devious one, aren't you?"

"You bet I am. Don't you ever forget it, either."

They joked with each other the rest of the drive back, which concluded uneventfully, and rejoined Asher and Dean in their hotel room to resume hunting the elusive supernatural beastie. Asher and Dean gave them an odd look when they entered.

"So, what were you two doing last night? What got you guys _so _tired that you couldn't even drive the truck back, eh?" Dean asked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively in Sam's direction.

Sam opened his mouth, but no sound came out right away, so Amelia piped in. "We were going at it like bunnies. How was your night?" When everyone, including Sam, just stood there and stared at her like she'd been replaced by an alien straight from Plan 9 From Outer Space, she rolled her eyes and corrected herself. "We had been doing a lot of research. Research is actually quite tiring, which you would know if either of you ever _did _any."

Dean was the first to recover. "Yeah, research. That stuff. That's fine. As long as you two don't research anything too 'in depth', if you know what I mean." Amelia rolled her eyes and moved past Dean to her bed to unpack her laptop, winking at Sam on the way by.

Sam visibly relaxed and Amelia chuckled inwardly at the dynamic the two brothers had with each other. Some things never changed.

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**A/N**: So, little Sam/Amelia one-shot. Woo hoo! Set sometime before Castiel shows up in the general scheme of the show. It could be any time before that, but I'm not going to say when. Because it doesn't really matter. … THAT'S RIGHT, I SAID IT: it doesn't matter.

The title is in reference to "In the Evening" by Led Zeppelin, in order to keep the theme of classic rock-themed titles in Supernatural. Aren't I clever?

Once again, I am terrible at ending things, so this gets a lame ending as well. GO ME! I also chickened out of writing anything more smutty then what you get here, but I think Sam and Amelia are just so cute together that I think writing anything more smutty might have just been wrong. Or as my 4-year-old cousin might say, "That's wrong on so many levels!"

This probably won't make any sense unless you've been reading my friend "The Batchild"'s Supernatural fic, Monster Hospital (see link: .net/s/5442242/1/Monster_Hospital_Book_One_Zombies ), so if you haven't and this made no sense, I am sorry for wasting your time. If you have been reading that and this made no sense, then… uh… sorry?

Hope y'all enjoyed this!


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